


You're The Eighth Wonder

by deandratb



Category: The Doctor Blake Mysteries
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-23
Packaged: 2019-03-08 16:51:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13462455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deandratb/pseuds/deandratb
Summary: Semi-prompt fic; Alice goes looking for cake and finds much, much more.Jean gestured at the empty shop around them. “You are currently my very best customer.”“I haven’t bought anything yet,” Alice pointed out.“Still.”





	You're The Eighth Wonder

**Author's Note:**

> For [a-tardis-at-downton](http://a-tardis-at-downton.tumblr.com/).

Alice stood several feet back from the counter, fingers laced together as she stared at the glass display case.

After a few moments, a willowy brunette came through the archway behind the register, aiming a sunny smile in her direction. “Welcome to Jean’s. What can I get for you?”

“I--” Alice paused, and had to take a moment to collect herself. The woman in the cheerful blue apron-- _the proprietor?_ \--was stunningly beautiful, and looked as happy as Alice was glum. It wouldn’t do to fall to pieces in public, in front of a stranger, no less. 

She swallowed hard, and tried again. “I’ve come for cake.”

“Well, you’ve certainly come to the right place. I make all the cakes myself.”

Alice was right; this was the shopkeeper. _Jean,_ she thought. It made her focus back on the desserts between them, looking more critically now. Those delicate, lacy decorations on the cupcakes had been crafted by her hands. The bright sugar cookies lined up in careful rows had been frosted in colors she chose.

Even the decor of the shop, light and bright and charmingly feminine, gave Alice clues about who she was. Jean, the baker and chocolatier and businesswoman standing before her...was staring, a crease at the center of her forehead emphasizing her concern.

“Do you know what you want?”

_You,_ came the unbidden and not entirely welcome thought in response. Alice fought the urge to blush,

“Not really,” she admitted, risking a glance at Jean before returning her attention to the cake slices before her. 

“Well, what’s your favorite flavor?”

“I can’t say that I have one. I know, that’s unusual,” Alice rushed to add. “But I don’t eat a lot of sweets...I’m not entirely sure what I like.”

“Ah.” If this seemed strange to her, Jean didn’t show it. Briskly, she left her spot behind the counter, moving to Alice’s side and nudging her closer to the case with a gentle hand on her back. 

“I think samples are in order, then.” She pointed to the first row of single slices, angled for maximum effect behind the glass. 

Alice tried not to think about how pretty her hands were, and failed miserably. Jean had artist’s hands, long slender fingers with slight calluses from her work. It was far too easy to imagine them trailing along her jawline or tangling in her hair.

_Her imagination was going to be the death of her,_ Alice thought. But there would be plenty of time for giving herself a good lecture after her business was concluded.

“Starting on the left, we have a double chocolate, then lemon. Angel’s food,” Jean continued, gesturing as she went, unaware that Alice was watching her more than the desserts. “Then red velvet, and finally a seasonal fruit variety. Right now, it’s blueberry.”

“A blueberry cake?” Alice had never heard of such a thing, but it was a fascinating color. 

“Yes.” Jean turned back to Alice, flashing a quick grin. “Shall we start with that one?”

“It’s very...blue.”

“It’s delicious.” She must have noticed Alice’s hesitation; her voice gentled. “Trust me.”

Pinned in place by Jean’s kind blue eyes, Alice nodded. Satisfied, Jean went back around to her side of the counter and crouched down to retrieve a tiny triangle of the blueberry cake.

It was so cute and precise in its angles that Alice almost didn’t feel right eating it. But Jean was watching her with an expectant smile, and after all, dessert was made to be eaten, wasn’t it?

She popped the cake between her lips, closing her eyes to better savor the soft treat. Somehow, it tasted not just like berries...it actually **tasted** blue.

It was as if Jean had managed to capture the essence of a color and transform it into a flavor she could bake into a cake. What a marvelous talent that was, Alice decided, humming a little in approval.

When she opened her eyes again, Jean was still smiling, proudly now. “You liked it,” she declared. 

“Yes.” Alice touched her fingertips to the corner of her mouth, trying to check subtly for crumbs. “Very much,” she added. She offered Jean a smile of her own, one that only wobbled a little. 

“Well. Normally, I would say we should go with that one, then. But it just won’t do, to have you only try one flavor when you haven’t got much experience with sweets. What else catches your eye?”

Taking Jean’s question seriously, Alice perused the cake shelves for several long, silent minutes. Then she nodded to herself decisively. 

“That one there,” she told Jean, pointing to a marbled slice that mixed yellow cake with a chocolate variety so dark it was nearly black.

“Oh, the espresso. Good choice.” Jean beamed at her. “That’s my favorite.”

“Really?” 

“Yes, really.” Jean ran a hand over her curly hair, sounding a little sheepish. “I’m a big fan of coffee. In everything.”

“Hmm.” Alice filed that away and pointed to her second choice. “I’d also like to try that one, if I may.”

“Of course.” Jean gestured at the empty shop around them. “You are currently my very best customer.”

“I haven’t bought anything yet,” Alice pointed out.

“Still.” Jean reached down for a sample of the espresso marble cake, and then one of the red velvet. “This one is good too,” she told Alice as she set them on the counter. “Though it’s a bit intense for my taste. Not in flavor,” she explained, “but in color. It’s so very red.”

“I like red,” Alice replied, taking that sample first. “Not as much as green--green is my favorite color--but I don’t think anyone makes a green cake, and red is such a strong hue. Memorable.”

She stopped herself when she caught the bemused look on Jean’s face. “Sorry, I ramble when I’m nervous.”

“Why would you be nervous tasting cake? I hope **I** haven’t done anything--”

“No, no.” Alice waved her concern away. “It’s nothing you’ve done.”

“Well, then what...that is, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Jean was so sincere in her interest; normally Alice would loathe the very idea of telling her secrets to another person, especially one she had just met. But there was something about this woman, more than the captivating way her eyes glittered and her smile shone--something that made Alice feel like she could trust her.

“It took all my nerve to come here,” Alice explained. “It’s...it’s my birthday. And I’m new to the city, and wasn’t planning on celebrating at all, because it just felt rather pathetic, the idea of celebrating alone. But I was sitting at home, in that dreadfully quiet apartment, and I decided that I deserved to be grateful for another year, even a lonely one.

“Picking out my own cake meant facing just how isolated I’ve been lately, and admitting that the days just keep on passing by.” Alice sniffed. “It feels a bit like **life** is passing me by. So it wasn’t easy, deciding to come...but I’m glad I did.” She smiled shyly at Jean.

“I’m glad you did, too. Happy birthday--” Jean’s pause was comical. “What’s your name?”

“Oh. I’m Alice. Alice Harvey.” She held out her hand across the counter, biting her bottom lip when Jean took it and held on.

“I hope you have a lovely day, Alice. With cake!” Jean lifted the espresso sample and handed it to her. “This one, now.”

“Yes.” She popped the aromatic slice in her mouth, letting it settle and dissolve on her tongue, trying to savor it. This was Jean’s favorite, she remembered, Jean who was regarding her with those warm, soft eyes. 

It would mortify her that night when she was trying to sleep and her traitorous brain forced her to relive the experience again and again, but she actually moaned. Quietly, and just a little, but the espresso cake was so rich, and sharp, and...decadent. 

Alice had allowed very little indulgence in her life thus far, preferring to focus on goals and work and pushing herself ever harder. 

Going out in search of a birthday treat was a brave act, yes, but also an attempt to open herself up to new experiences. To pure enjoyment. 

And she found it, in a cute little cake shop--and in Jean’s company.

“That’s the one,” Jean murmured after a moment, a queer expression on her face. As soon as Alice caught it, it was gone, replaced by the same sunny smile Jean had first greeted her with. “So, it seems you have good taste.”

“Yes, I’d like this one. Just a large slice,” Alice decided. “I won’t be able to eat a whole cake.”

“Coming right up.” Jean busied herself with carefully tucking the slice of cake in a small box branded with her store logo, and Alice wandered down the display case while she waited, enjoying the rows of handcrafted chocolates and the cheerful macaroons. 

The bell above the door rang as it opened, startling Alice after such a long stretch of quiet. A petite redhead breezed past her and greeted Jean on her way to the back room.

“That’s my assistant,” Jean said, handing her the box. “Mattie, love? Can you help Alice here pick out a chocolate or two to take home while I pop out for a minute?”

“Oh,” Alice protested, “I didn’t come for chocolates.”

“I know.” Jean winked before turning to Mattie as she reentered the room. “It’s on the house, for her birthday.”

“Well, a very happy birthday to you,” Mattie said, tapping her fingers lightly on the glass of the display. “What’s your pleasure?”

“She’s going to need a minute.” Jean grabbed her purse and offered Alice a smile on her way out the door. “I’ll be right back. Find something sweet--I insist.”

With a second chiming of the bell, Jean was gone. Alice stared after her helplessly, not sure how she had come for cake and ended up picking out candy. “I haven’t even paid for my cake yet,” she told Mattie.

“And you’re not going to,” the girl told her firmly. “If Jean had wanted that, she would have said so. I suspect this is meant to be a birthday gift of sorts. There’s no point in arguing,” she added. “She won’t take no for a answer, not when she’s trying to do something nice. You’d best accept the gesture.”

“All right...” _What a strange place this was,_ Alice couldn’t help thinking. How could the store survive if the owner made a habit of just giving items away?

At Mattie’s insistence, she examined the chocolate section, finally deciding to try a caramel and a toffee. They were wrapped in wax paper and tucked into a bag along with her cake box, leaving Alice with no further business, and nothing to do but reluctantly exit.

She had been hoping Jean would return in time; she wanted the chance to thank her properly for the kindness. Her birthday felt a little less daunting, with a bag of treats to look forward to and a welcoming new neighbor. 

A lovely new neighbor, graced with chestnut curls and a tempting, rose-shaded mouth.

Alice had never been overly fond of sugar, preferring to save it for special occasions...but she was already trying to come up with a reason to return again, soon.

It must have been fate, which Alice had stubbornly refused to believe in until now, that had convinced her to check out the nearest bakery--that had brought her to this particular shop on this particular day.

Because when she stepped out of the store into the sunlight, blinking hard against the glare, she nearly walked right into Jean, who was standing just outside. 

Holding flowers.

“Happy birthday, Alice,” Jean murmured, pressing a friendly kiss to her cheek and handing her the bouquet. “I do hope you have a wonderful day.”

Astonished, Alice could do nothing but stare. At the bright red blossoms, then at Jean, then back to the flowers. 

“Thank you...but why? Why all of this, for me?”

“No one should have to be sad on their birthday.” Jean arched an eyebrow. “Especially not you.”

“I--I truly don’t know what to say.”

“You don’t have to say anything.” Jean patted her arm, moving past her to the shop door. “Enjoy your cake.” 

“I will. Thank you, again.”

Alice walked home in a daze, grateful that finding her way around the neighborhood still required her full attention. Navigating the winding streets kept her from overthinking the way Jean had smiled her farewell, or how gently she had kissed Alice’s face, so familiar for a near-stranger. So sweet.

It was the best birthday Alice had had in years, and it wasn’t done surprising her. When she got home and put the flowers in water, she realized Jean had attached a card. 

“Thanks for stopping in” was written in blue ink, followed by Jean’s signature-- _her last name was Beazley_ \--and a series of numbers that made Alice’s pulse leap.

Jean had signed off with her phone number, which Alice might have agonized over for days, wondering if perhaps it was the store phone to encourage repeat business.

But just to the right of the number, Jean had drawn a tiny blue heart.

So Alice ate her birthday cake that night and tried the chocolates and couldn’t stop smiling until she fell asleep.

The next morning, she called and asked Jean out for coffee.

****

“I’m so glad you called,” Jean said as she sipped her latte. “I wasn’t sure...you know, it can be hard to meet people.”

“It can,” Alice agreed from behind her oversized mug of dark roast. “And I never would have guessed that you...” She wasn’t sure how to finish that thought, but Jean only smiled.

“That I what, liked you? Is it that hard to believe?”

“No. I mean, yes. But only because you--well, you’re **you.** ” Alice waved vaguely toward her, making Jean laugh.

She had a beautiful laugh. Alice vowed right then to do whatever she could to coax a laugh from Jean more often.

“I’m really not that special,” Jean protested. “Not like you, with your striking features and your brilliant career.”

She was caught on ‘striking features’ long enough that she almost missed the rest. “Wait, what about my career?”

Jean flushed a little. “I looked you up. I read about your work. I’m sorry, I was just so curious.”

“Oh, I don’t mind. I guess I didn’t realize I was notable. You read about me,” Alice mused, lifting her coffee again.

“Yes, and it’s fascinating, what you do. I mean, you could really find a cure for cancer, they’re saying, or for autoimmune diseases. That’s the sort of work that changes the world. I just bake.”

Alice frowned. “You make the world better a little bit every day with your shop.”

“Oh, you don’t have say that. I’m comfortable with my modest life.”

“No, Jean, I mean it.” Alice reached for her hand across the table. “Your desserts are so good, and your bakery is so friendly--we need more of that in the world. It brightens lives.”

“Well.” Jean squeezed her hand, flattered. “Thank you.”

“You brightened my life,” Alice finished quietly, meeting Jean’s eyes with her cautious ones. “Just by being you.”

“I felt the same way, the moment you walked into the bakery,” Jean admitted. “You looked so lost, I just wanted to give you a good cuddle...and get you to tell me all your secrets.”

She chuckled at the way Alice faux-glared at her. “What can I say, I’m nosy.”

“You’re delightful.” 

“And we’re quite the mutual admiration society.” Jean glanced at her watch. “Say, what are your plans this afternoon?”

“It’s my day off; I don’t have any. Just this.”

“After coffee, how about I walk you home? I’d love to see your part of the neighborhood.”

“That sounds nice.” 

Halfway back to the apartment, Jean slid her hand into Alice’s, continuing to walk beside her as though nothing had happened, as though Alice’s entire world hadn’t just tilted on its axis.

“So, other than feeling isolated,” Jean asked as they strolled, “do you like it here so far?”

“Well,” Alice said, considering her words carefully, “it’s not entirely fair to ask me that now.”

“Why not?”

“Because right at this exact moment, I can’t remember what it’s like to be unhappy.” Alice grinned at her, the smile transforming the contours of her face.

Jean swung their joined hands a little, inwardly agreeing. She loved her business, and Mattie was one of her closest friends in addition to being a trusted employee, but there was a certain something that she had felt was lacking for some time.

With her fingers laced through Alice’s, their hands fitting together like matching pieces of the same puzzle, Jean was starting to think that maybe what had been missing all along was Alice Harvey.

“Here we are,” Alice told her as they approached her apartment building. Reluctantly, she pulled back, feeling the warmth of Jean’s palm against her own even after they were parted.

“I would invite you in, but I’ve been awfully busy with work lately,” Alice apologized. “It’s a complete disaster in there, really.”

“Oh, that’s quite all right. I have to be getting back to the bakery anyhow.” Jean tucked her hands in her pockets while Alice got out her housekeys.

Then she froze, as Alice turned back, keys in hand. _Maybe she’d changed her mind,_ Jean thought. She really did need to get back to her shop, but if Alice asked her in...well, she wouldn’t pass up the chance to see her at home.

Jean had so resigned herself to her quiet, single life that meeting Alice was a wonderful surprise. And confirmation that Alice was interested in her in return was a gift. 

But their date was a shock to her system, fireworks and a summer storm and a triple espresso all rolled into one. Because it was Alice who walked over to her instead of saying goodbye.

It was Alice who moved in close, so close that Jean could see flecks of grey around her irises, while Jean stayed motionless and forgot to breathe.

Their first kiss was feather-light, tentative, as Alice brushed her mouth over Jean’s with the slightest hesitation. After all, they hadn’t known each other long at all--she wouldn’t have blamed Jean if she had jerked back and explained she wasn’t ready. 

And it wasn’t even like her, not one bit, to make such a bold move. But Alice found it harder to hold back, to think of anything else, when Jean was right there, so soft and warm and sweet, walking close and taking her hand and smiling, smiling until Alice felt like she would burst from wanting to kiss her.

Their hesitant meeting of lips stretched out and heated, both of them forgetting they were standing on a public sidewalk in the middle of the day. 

All Jean could think was, _God, Alice was angular and tall and by every measurement a little unusual, but she wanted to stay wrapped up in her for the rest of her life. Just here, like this, for eternity._

Alice just kept silently repeating _Jean_ like a mantra...or like a prayer. Her name was a whisper in the back of Alice’s mind, and somehow, she was certain that long after she forgot all the facts she had studied, even after she forgot her own name--she would remember Jean Beazley.

Emboldened by the way Jean’s hands had left her pockets to tug her closer, Alice traced her tongue over Jean’s lips, sighing happily when they parted. 

Jean’s tongue stroked hers, and this woman she realized she could very easily love glided her fingertips up Alice’s back until she shivered. 

With Jean’s hands roaming higher, trailing heat along the curve of her neck and tugging a little on the ends of her short hair, it took all of Alice’s willpower to lean back, resting her forehead gently against Jean’s and taking a deep, shuddering breath.

“Wow,” Jean whispered, her words catching on the breeze that fluttered between them.

“Yes,” Alice agreed, smiling at Jean from under her eyelashes. _Yes, I really like you,_ she added in her head. _Yes, I hope we can do this again. Yes...I think I might follow you anywhere, if you asked me._

Out loud, she said instead, “You should go bake.”

“I should.” Jean nodded, then sent Alice a teasing smile. “You’re not sick of me already, I hope.”

“No. Not at all. But you have to go do the baking,” she said with great solemnity. “Because if there’s no cake, I won’t have an excuse to come by again tomorrow.”

Jean laughed, her eyes sparkling in the summer sun. “Fine, then. I’m going to go bake--a lot.” 

She was careful to hold herself back as she kissed Alice goodbye, knowing now how easy it was to sink into her and willingly drown. 

Back at home, Alice cozied up with her favorite book, spending the rest of her day off in a world of familiar intrigue and danger. When she fell asleep, she dreamed of Jean.

Jean sang her way through work, while Mattie smiled and teased her about having a secret affair. She put together a new cake batter, made with honey and raspberries and dark chocolate. 

She dubbed it the Harvey Cake, and set two slices aside for the morning.

**Author's Note:**

> Title borrowed from "Wilson (Expensive Mistakes)" by Fall Out Boy.


End file.
